Nerva
by Last of the Lilac Wine
Summary: How do you become one of the most evil people in the galaxy? Is there still light in you? Can you still love? Can you come back from the path you set yourself on? Kylo Ren/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**NERVA**

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 **A/N** A few quick notes before we begin. Salinas is a world of my own creation, as are the Children of Shii, and as such do not appear in Star Wars canon. The people are primitive, and exist without knowledge of the outside galaxy, save for a meteorite that fell to Salinas hundreds of years ago. They believe the meteorite possesses magical properties and worship it – believing it was sent by the Sky God – Shii.

This fiction will follow a girl called Chakka and how she reinvents herself as Nerva.

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 **CHAPTER 1**

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"' _Thou mayest' – that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open."_

 _\- East of Eden (by John Steinbeck)_

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[1]

The two children stood on the edge of the cliff.

For Salinas, the cliff was not particularly large, nor particularly steep, but still perilous enough that both toed the edge nervously.

"Must be a-mill'yun feet," said one of them – the boy – wiping at his nose with his sleeve.

The girl squinted, as if thinking, and picked up a stone and threw it experimentally down the cliff-face. They watched it ricochet off the black slate crags – spinning and flipping – until it became a speck and then fell out of sight, hurtling towards the primeval forest at the basin.

"I dare you."

The girl looked at the boy. "What?"

"I dare ya to climb down."

She reflexively stepped back from the cliff edge. "Don' be stupid."

"You 'fraid, Chakka?"

The girl called Chakka looked at the boy – Tad - with a wary, calculating gaze. They lived together at the orphanage, and were both dressed in little more than rags; filthy fur pelts pulled round their shoulders to keep them warm against the bitterly cold air.

Chakka was not good at the games she and Tad played. He was bigger and stronger than she was, and always won. She yearned for the day when one day she would beat him, when he would no longer be able to make her feel so small or weak. A wild part of her thought that maybe she _should_ climb down the cliff – just to _win_ , _finally_.

"You 'fraid Chakka?" Tad taunted again.

" _No_ " Chakka snapped, taking another step back from the steep drop before her.

Quick as a flash, Tad was behind her – and there was a thrilling, horrible sensation of being pushed – of actually pitching forwards, of falling. Something froze deep in Chakka's chest and a terrified scream tore from her throat just before the back of her shirt was grabbed in Tad's fist, and she was left dangling over the precipice, imagining the stone flipping sickeningly through the air.

She could hear Tad's awful, stupid guffawing behind her and the moment she rebalanced herself Chakka spun round, flying at him. Her small fists beat ineffectually against his chest. " _I hate you!"_ she screamed at him – the fact that her blows had only little impact spurned her rage and the rage caused tears to leak from her eyes – hot and humiliating. " _You're a bastard_!"

One of her fists connected with his nose and red blood sprayed satisfyingly onto the white rocks they stood on. At that, Tad knocked her to the ground, as easily as if he were brushing off a fly. When she tried to scramble upright he held her down with his boot.

"You _were_ 'fraid Chakka," the blood from his nose ran into his mouth and he gave her a horrible, bloody smile.

"No I was't _"_ she yelled – her voice cracking with sobs. "No I was't."

Assessing that he'd broken her to a satisfactory degree, Tad removed his foot and left. If he'd looked back, he – and the other children at the orphanage – might have thought twice about bullying Chakka again. She was gazing after him with such a look of hatred that she would have frightened him, finally.

[2]

Chakka took to carrying an array of homemade weapons on her person.

Over the years, the orphanage staff confiscated from her small flint knives; wood whittled down into stakes; barbed wire from the Yakyak fences and other worrying objects.

They noticed that she stopped playing with the other children – or, at any rate, the other children stopped playing with _her_. They agreed she was growing into a rather ill-favoured young women, despite the fact they never caught her actually _using_ the weapons they found.

In fact, there was little they could fault Chakka with, except generally agreeing that there was _something_ off about the girl. She prayed to Shii each morning and night and helped till the fields or plant crops, depending on the time of year. In the evenings she and the other older girls prepared dinner and mended clothes – and though she evidently found the latter activities highly tedious, she never complained.

Still, no one was sad to see the girl go that dark night on her fourteenth birthday.

As was customary for every child who reached the age of fourteen on Salinas (and not many did, due to the harsh winters) they were subjected to a visit from one of the Children of Shii – or 'Elders'.

Why the Elders came was only vaguely understood by the people of Salinas. They didn't take every child away – indeed, sometimes many years went by and no child was taken; they only took those deemed 'special'.

That year, it had been Chakka, Tad and another boy, called Rag's, birthdays. The orphanage nurses lined them up by the fire. The children were a sorry sight, with lips cracked and blue from the cold. One of the woman had found a strip of blue cloth to tie round Chakka's head – hiding the greasy roots of her red hair from view.

Chakka couldn't help but be both nervous and exciting – both feelings twisting together in her gut uncomfortably – but the emotions didn't show on her strangely blank face. She'd grown adept at hiding her feelings.

Finally, just as the moon was fully rising into the night sky and the Yayaks could be heard snuffling sleepily in barn adjoining the orphanage, there was a knock at the door. All three children stiffened, and Chakka's heart leapt into her throat.

The man who entered was unlike any she had ever seen in so many respects.

For a child such as herself, the thing that struck her first was that the white robes he wore were _clean_.

The second thing she noticed was his skin; he had rivulets of metal no thicker than her little finger welded in an undulating pattern to his body – even on his face. She had never seen a person like this before in her life.

The man was tall (and didn't look very old, despite being an 'Elder'), and had to stoop slightly to accommodate their low thatched ceiling. His gaze travelled round the room uncritically before landing on the three children stood by the crackling fire.

"Greetings, children, I am Elder Telmanes," he said. He spoke in a strange way – not lazy and broken like most Salinese, but rich and fluid, like a river, Chakka thought. She began to wonder if he had fallen from the sky like the legendary meteorite Shii had sent from the heavens all those years ago. "...I am a member of the Children of Shii. My purpose here tonight will be quick – as I am sure you children are aware, our visits come every year. We seek children who have experienced their fourteenth birth date, and only require you to perform a simple test." Rag must have looked scared because the man smiled slightly. "Worry not, I assure you the test is quite simple."

Chakka glanced at Tad out of the corner of her eye. Tad who had only grown bigger and more arrogant in the years since the cliff. If it was a test of strength, _this_ time she would win. _This time_. Her hand sank surreptitiously inside the folds of her shirt to grasp the familiar flint knife at her waist. The orphanage nurses were never sharp-witted enough to find every one of her knives.

Telmanes must have seen Chakka's small movement because he looked at her suddenly and sharply. His blue eyes seemed to pierce her soul and she felt her spine stiffen defensively.

"Miss?" He asked, tearing his gaze from Chakka eventually. The orphanage nurse the Elder had addressed jumped and blushed, clearly not used to being spoken to so politely. Like the children she tended to, she was unclean, and – like the majority of the children – possessed little intellect.

"Are these good children?"

"O, yay, they say their prays each morning an' night an' are mighty help'ul with farmworkin' an' the like."

This was essentially true with respect to Chakka and Tad, but Rag was lazy and did little in the way of work at the orphanage. As for Tad and Chakka, well, neither of them were 'good' children.

Chakka could tell that the man was not convinced, and her eyes narrowed with suspicion when he approached the fireside slowly. The metal on his skin caught the flames and seemed to glow molten and from the depths of his robes he removed a simple wooden box.

The children leant forwards despite themselves when he opened the lid to reveal a rock the size of a rabbit's head nestled inside.

Instantly, Tad looked up at the Elder, perplexed, but Chakka's gaze remained fixed on the rock. Her thinking seemed to go blurry and – was it her, or did a faint whispering seem to be emitting from it? She felt like the room was tilting and shifting and her hand tightened reflexively round her knife.

"Can you hear anything?" prompted Telmanes, softly.

"It's a rock," Tad scoffed – his voice sounded distant, but when his words finally registered, Chakka made a slow, beautiful realization. Tad couldn't hear the voice but _she could_. She'd won. She was the special person the Children of Shii were looking for…part of her felt like she'd always known it. Every time Tad had thrown her to the ground, belittled her – bullied her – made her bleed - she'd _known_ she was stronger than him, _knew_ she was better than him, which was why it had all been so humiliating – so frustrating -

"I can hear it," Chakka said, looking up at Telmanes, her eyes shining, her face strained in the firelight. The nurses were privately surprised by the show of emotion on the girl's usually impassive face. "I can hear it," she repeated, almost like a prayer – a reverent _thank you_.

 _It's calling to me_.

[3]

She was instructed to pack what little belongings she owned into a pack and leave with Telmanes. Chakka had no qualms about leaving the orphanage behind her. She was not close to any of the children; the low-slung long house, with its saggy thatched roof, mud floors and permanent smell of shit, had never felt like home. Her face flushed with excitement as she flung her few clothes and a little food the nurses had permitted her to take into her sack and then galloped back into the main room – breathless. Telmanes stood calmly waiting at the doorway.

"You may choose not to come, if you so wish" he said, almost warningly "To leave one's childhood home is no small sacrifice."

"This isn't my home," Chakka said, too quickly.

He merely raised an eyebrow. "Very well."

They stepped out into night and along the tusocky, gnarled fields of crops to the orphanage's borders. Tied to a tree trunk were two beasts Chakka had never before seen: like Yakyaks, only, their fur was shorter and sleeker, their legs longer and their bodies bigger. The beasts lifted their heads at the sound of their approach and Chakka took a step back – there were four heads for two bodies. Each beast had two heads.

"What are they?" she said, forcefully, to hide her hesitation.

"Hy-mules," replied Telmanes, busying himself with untying the reins from the tree. "They are a good deal faster than your ponies and will allow us to reach our destination by the second nightfall. You need not be afraid of them." She looked at Telmanes dubiously and thought she saw the man smiling to himself slightly, as if she had said something ridiculous. It was that, more than his assurances that made Chakka square her shoulders and place her foot into one stirrup, hauling herself up onto the Hy-mule. She was a passably good rider, but had never sat upon a beast this tall before, and felt unusually precarious. When she nudged the beasts flank with her heels to follow Telmanes', she found it so skinny she could almost feel its ribs.

Telmanes led them to the descent down the cliff's less steep western face, following a narrow mountain track. After an hour they passed through a small village where she was sometimes sent to buy wool or meat for the orphanage – the furthest she had ever been. She did not hesitate, however, as Telmanes led her past darkened huts, not wanting to give him any cause to think her sentimental or hesitant.

She _wanted_ to go forwards. They'd _chosen_ her for this…whatever 'this' was.

Chakka dwelled uneasily for the first time on what the rock's whisperings meant, looking mistrustfully at Telmanes back. She tried to remember some of the mythology of Shii that the nurses told them – though she didn't trust most of it, because the nurses were stupid, and she didn't see how one man - even if they were a God - could make all of Salinas by himself.

She had never met anyone who had been chosen by the Children of Shii. Old Ma Yibber at the village used to tell anyone who would listen that her great-great-great-Papi had been chosen, but Ma was raving mad, and also claimed a rock she wore on a chord round her neck was the meteorite Shii had sent. All Chakka knew for sure was the Elders dwelt in a temple, which lay at the end of the valley at the bottom of the cliff, and you couldn't enter the temple unless the Children said so. She knew that because one of them had said so when they'd visited the orphanage when she was only a bairn.

They chased their own shadows – still descending the cliff-face down a road Chakka herself had never trodden. The whole night, two emotions warred with in her: her yearning for the place Telmanes was taking her, and her natural mistrust for it. She in turn imagined a golden temple, where she was feared and respected, and a place like the orphanage, where she would be thrown in with many other children; a helpless voice among the many.

Still, despite her fears Chakka never once considered turning her mule round and riding back to the orphanage. _You were chosen_ , she reminded herself. _You're special_.

[4]

They didn't stop until morning – finally halting their horses on a rock field.

Whilst Telmanes prepared a fire, Chakka chewed thoughtfully on a piece of salted meat from her pack. Finally, she said what she'd been bursting to say for the entire night.

"You don't b'lief he's real, do you?"

"Who, child?"

Chakka chewed, trying to look nonchalant. "Shii."

Telmanes paused and then straightened from his crouched position, wiping his hands on a rag from his pocket. _Always so clean_. "Don't you, Chakka?"

She shrugged.

"Your nurse said you pray morning and night. Why pray to Shii if you don't believe in him?"

"Kips 'em happy." Stopped them from watching her too closely.

Telmanes surveyed her for a long moment before gesturing for her to come forwards. He held out his open palm to her – lying flat on its surface was a perfectly round gold coin.

"I want you to focus on this coin and levitate it."

Chakka scowled, disliking it when he used long words she couldn't understand. "Levi-what?"

"Make it fly, Chakka."

She was about to protest, sure Telmanes was making fun of her, but then she remembered how Tad had looked up – ' _But it's a rock_ ,' he'd said, because he hadn't _understood_ , because he wasn't special, like she was.

A gust of wind blew unbroken and unopposed across the rock field, pulling at Telmanes brilliant white cloak and Chakka's furs. She looked for a moment at the metal on his skin and decided making a rock fly could be no more impossible.

She focused on the pebble; it was flat and chipped at the edges. Chakka focused for a solid minute before she grew irritated and gave up – suspicion rotting her. He was making fun of her.

She grabbed the stupid pebble from his hand and threw it as far as she could. "There!" she snapped, "I made it fly."

For the first time, Telmanes serene face tightened with irritation and suddenly all the loose bits of rock and dry wood on the ground around them rose a good foot into the air. Chakka looked around herself, wide-eyed.

"How're you doin' that?" she demanded.

"By focusing and controlling my emotions."

Abruptly, Chakka forced all her emotions down deep inside her and thrust out one hand to the closest pebble, as if reaching for it. She felt all her yearning, all her desire for the power Telmanes had just displayed and felt her mind go blurry – like it had when she'd heard the rock whispering at the orphanage. Suddenly, the pebble she was reaching for shot into the air like a geiser – so high it rocketed out of her control and fell back to earth, cracking in two as it connected with the ground.

Excited, Chakka reached out for the rock with her mind again, determined to see what else she could do. With glee, she split the rock's two pieces in two again, and the Hy-mules reared up onto their back legs as the shards were sent scattering with the force of the separation.

She reached out for the four fragments of rock again – finding it more difficult now that they were smaller and there were four of them, but she was high with the feeling of power, surpassing the difficulty with ease. This time she managed to float the segments of rock over the ground before experimentally snapping her hand into a fist. Instantly, the rocks exploded into dust.

"Impressive," said Telmanes.

Chakka turned, breathing hard, her face flushed to see that Telmanes was bent over the fire, boiling something in a small travelling kettle and wasn't looking at her. "Did you see tha'?" she asked, approaching him. It felt like her whole body was buzzing – like there was a hive of bees in her bloodstream.

Telmanes' face remained impassive as he poured some hot, herbal tea out of the pot and handed her a cup. "I saw that you have a penchant for destruction, Chakka." He raised his own mug to his lips and drank. "The Force is not merely about power."

"The force?" asked Chakka, impatiently, ignoring her own cup. Telmanes obvious disapproval was like a blanket being thrown over a fire – her excitement was bleeding out of her.

"The energy that connects all living things in the galaxy. It is not a mere weapon, but a life system."

"An' this place your taking me – you're goin' to teach me about this force?" asked Chakka, shrewdly.

"Yes."

Content, Chakka finally lifted the mug to her lips. She found that the tea was surprisingly pleasant – the hot water smelling of some fragrant spice.

"Where are you going?" asked Telmanes, sharply, when she wondered a little distance across the rock field.

"Jus' for a walk," she threw back over her shoulder. After a few paces Chakka came to a deep crack in the rock where a trickle of water flowed – she followed it with her eyes up – up – up until she saw it's a source: a large waterfall further up the cliff.

Warming one hand round her mug, Chakka crouched and traced a fingertip a little over the water. This time, she recognised that the water did indeed have a different feel to the rock – more fluid, more supple. She sipped on her tea absentmindedly and gave the water a little bit of a nudge with her mind…and grinned to herself as she watched its path alternate, and flow in a completely different direction.

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 **A/N** This is a Kylo Ren/OC story, I'm just taking three or four chapters before I get to that point to establish Chakka's back story and how she comes to the dark side.

Chakka is NOT a good character and has sociopathic qualities – this story in no way condones her actions.

 _Last Of The Lilac Wine_


	2. Chapter 2

**NERVA**

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 **A/N** Thank you so much for all your favourites and reviews – I'm glad you all find Chakka such an interesting character! Her training in the Force and path to the dark side continue with this chapter.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 2**

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[1]

They rode through much of the next day, passing through towns larger than Chakka had ever seen in her life. They were often so bustling, busy and muddy they made her head spin – the world had never seemed quite so big, and each time waves of nerves cruised through her body, setting the hairs on the back of her neck on end and her spine stiff.

Out on the open road, however, Telmanes would talk endlessly to her, pointing out new species of trees or birds she had not seen before. He did not seem to be bothered by the saddle sores that made Chakka's answers short and curt and her voice irritable.

"At the temple," he informed her, warningly "you will be trained in sparse conditions as befits a novice. You will rise at dawn and not bed until well into the night…you may find some of the tasks required of you…unappealing and degrading. Some of the children are far from happy in their first year."

"Times are at the orphanage you say you eat one meal in a day, you eat good," Chakka replied, indifferently. She used a twig to dig at the black muck underneath a nail. Her lip curled. The memory had stuck with her, and she doubted she'd forget it. In the last town she and Telmanes had ridden past a wagon – plain enough, stationed with a driver at the front entrance of a slightly larger, slightly better kept wooden house than many of the others. Just as Chakka had grown level with it, a girl her own age had stepped through the door and attempted to step on. Her golden hair hung in rich, clean waves down her back and she was wearing a dress of fine blue cloth, with sleeves like a bell. Chakka had observed as the skirt of that lovely dress dipped into the mud on the road; heard the shriek that emitted from the girl – now behind her – who'd clearly noticed her ruined hemline. "I ain't no pampered princess."

Telmanes seemed to read her mind. "You'd do well not see enemies where there are none, Chakka."

She snorted, flinging her twig to the ground where it snapped beneath the hooves of her Hy-mule. "There're always enemies."

"Perhaps, but one must still make an effort of understanding so that we can show them mercy and compassion. They are human – just like you – and perhaps with understanding and empathy, they may change. Even those in the deepest darkness may be brought back to the light."

"…That's the dummest thing I ever heard."

Telmanes looked at her, arching an eyebrow. "How so?"

"What if they're out for killen ya?" she challenged, kicking her Hy-mule so that she could ride alongside him. "Huh?"

"What would you do if someone wanted to kill _you_?"

"I'd kill 'em first," she said, without hesitation.

"Even with the Force flowing through your veins? Even with the ability to sense the very _essence_ of who they are; feel their emotions…It is no small thing to take a life."

"But they're evil."

Telmanes sighed, pausing to drink from the water skin at his waist. "The world is not split into good and evil Chakka – would you yourself say you are completely good?"

Chakka thought of what evil looked like – she thought hard about Tad and the cliff and all the torment and hardship she'd been subjected to throughout her life. "Yes," she said, without a shadow of a doubt.

Telmanes seemed to twitch like a spider. "I see."

Something in his voice made her look at him sharply.

[2]

They crossed a bridge that spanned torrential rapids. Chakka traced its trajectory with her eyes and saw it became a waterfall a little way down. In the two days they had been riding the landscape seemed to have changed – it was softer, greener; less of the harsh black rocks and tusocky grass of her own region, and more trees.

"We're here," said Telmanes, drawing his Hy-mule to a halt half way across the bridge. Chakka realised he was gazing upstream and twisted to look – what she saw made her squint and shield her eyes.

It was some kind of wall or closure taller than any tree at the orphanage, and made out of no material that she could not recognise. The only thing she could liken it to was the steel from a sword – and it seemed to be emitting its own, blinding light. The wall was completely smooth – so smooth, she was sure she would be able to see her own reflection in it - but not endlessly long – Chakka guessed she would be able to walk it in a quarter of a morning.

"What _is_ it?" she found herself asking, looking at Telmanes.

"What?"

"Tha' – the wall…its _glo'in_."

"It is merely reflecting light," he said, glancing overhead at the lowering afternoon sun. "And as for a wall," he continued, clucking his Hy-mule forwards, "it's a dam."

Chakka had no idea what a dam was and was instantly frustrated by her own lack of knowledge, a feeling that had dogged her like a black dog throughout their travels. Rather than feeling special, or marvelling at the new sights around her, the whole journey had only made her feel weaker and stupider than she already was. She had seen the wider world, and realized that to all of Salinas she was only a peasant girl with a sour face and stinking furs. To reassure herself of her own power, Chakka closed her eyes and reached for the Force. Fuelled by her own self-loathing, she barely noticed that the entity she was connecting to was the river itself. It seemed only a trickle at first, but quickly Chakka felt her mind get swept up in it, like a person getting caught in a strong current. She found it suddenly difficult to be aware of her self and the river as separate entities – felt herself quickly being dragged under; felt like she was drowning. Chakka panicked, trying to pull away – out – up – but found she was no longer connected to her own body. Her mind pulsed with an abrupt panic as it was carried away untethered and unconnected – something was roaring in her ears -

 _CHAKKA!_

She was grasped and pulled from the current.

Chakka sat bolt upright into a sitting position the moment her mind returned to her body, gasping for air. Everything seemed quieter in comparison to the rushing and roaring of the water, like a hurricane's clear eye (everything except her own self – which felt reassuringly present and loud; her breaths seemed to be torn from her lungs; her heartbeat banged like a drum in her chest).

" _Never do that! Ever!_ " Telmanes was shouting in her face, but to Chakka his words seemed to sound from a great distance. Her mind still felt blurry.

Suddenly, she was slapped across the face.

The world sharpened into focus.

" _Hey_!" she snarled, effectively pulled back to the present – her crude knife was in her hand before she knew it, pressed up against Telmanes throat. He was crouched next to her. It seemed she had fallen from her horse onto the ground.

Telmanes eyes narrowed and he grabbed her wrist, twisting her hand away from her neck with such inhuman strength, she feared he would break her wrist; her knife fell uselessly from her weakened grip. "Your constant anger is growing tiresome," he ground out, "- you _will_ learn to control your emotions at the temple or face being exiled."

"Your way is the only way, is tha' it?" she challenged when he released her hand, massaging her bruised wrist with a scowl.

"There is another way, but only the darkest walk it." As he stood, the metal in his skin glinted and something suddenly occurred to Chakka.

"Are you human?" she asked, bluntly.

"Yes."

"Then what's with all tha' –" she gestured vaguely to the tracery of markings across his skin. "- an' how are you so strong?"

"You will understand with time," he said dismissively – though it seemed to be that despite himself, a small smile was tugging at the corner of his lips. He helped her to her fight. "Are you quite finished with all your questions?"

"Not when you don' answer them," she shot at him, but obediently followed after Telmanes anyway as they both remounted their Hy-mules and joined a narrower, steeper stony track that led up to the dam.

Chakka looked at the track and wearily and was glad they were coming to the end of their journey. She was mentally fatigued from over-exerting herself with the Force and physically exhausted from two days of hard riding – in fact, she was so tired, she completely forgot to pick up her knife, still lying on the ground on the bridge.

[3]

Chakka was initially confused that past the wall – or dam – was only a large body of water. It was perfectly calm and smooth, without disturbance and utterly shaded by the cliffs that enclosed the end of the valley. But there was no temple.

As it turned out, the temple was not above ground at all, but rather under it. Telmanes led them through to large doors etched into the cliff face. Before she went in, Chakka could see four guards positioned in crevices over the entrance – and when she looked over her shoulder, she realized two, lone sentries were posted on the walls of the dam. The doors themselves had to be thicker than four tree-trunks.

The further the passage they stood in descended into the earth – lit only by a few flaming torches – the more Chakka was given the distinct impression that the Children of Shii did not want to be found. She kept glancing at Telmanes face for some kind of clue in his expression, but found none.

Eventually, people started to appear from interconnecting tunnels. The ceilings grew higher, held up by great pillars. The ground beneath her feet (they had long since dismounted their Hy-mules) was no longer earth, but neat squares of flagstone. The whole place seemed to give the general impression of attributing a great deal of value to cleanliness; those who passed by were dressed in simple robes of either white or brown, making Chakka acutely aware of her own greasy hair and muddy furs.

"When do I get them clothes?" she asked Telmanes, abruptly.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "What makes you think you'll be receiving any?"

"You're all wearing fancy robes," she said, gazing almost mistrustfully at a young man who passed her by, as if she expected him to suddenly abuse her for her difference in clothing. She turned back to Telmanes. "I'm not stupid – and I want some." The demanding tone of her voice highlighted the implied subtext – ' _now'_.

Telmanes deposited her next to a room emitting a faint amount of steam – leaving her with another young girl in a brown cloak with bandages covering her eyes. Chakka disliked being passed around from baby-sitter to baby-sitter and wondered how the blind girl was supposed to be of any help to her.

She was proved wrong, however, when the girl was able to lead her into the room – which was full of natural pools of hot, bubbling water – as well as any sighted person. It was almost unsettling when she spoke to Chakka – as if she were looking her directly in the eyes through those layers of bandages. "Here," she said, and Chakka was again surprised by the strangeness of a stranger's dialect – not rough like her own, or fancy like Telmanes; it had a pleasant kind of ease and laid-back quality. "They told me to give this to you." She handed her a plain grey dress and those brown robes, along with a brittle bar of soap.

"Wha' _is_ this place?" Chakka found herself asking. Her gaze fell on the circular walls where there were strange paintings - clearly ancient – all seemingly depicting variations of one theme; a cluster of people with their arms stretched towards the heavens.

"The temple to Shii," said the girl, she stepped forwards to look at the walls as well, though it should have been physically impossible for her to know what had drawn Chakka's attention. She reached out and traced a hand along the wall, touching a void where the sky should be. "You know, if you believe in that kind of thing."

Chakka stared. But the girl merely withdrew her arm quickly, as if abruptly recollecting something. "Sorry, listen to me – going on – you need to wash…I'll wait for you outside or whatever."

But as she moved to leave, Chakka grabbed the sleeve of her robe. "I don' need babyin'," she snapped, " _I can look after myself_."

To her surprise the girl broke into a grin. "So can I – I guess that makes two of us."

[4]

After bathing, the girl – who informed Chakka she was called Lauga – led her into another underground room. This time, however, Chakka was surprised to see that the ceiling was high and domed – and entirely made out of a clear material, so that the sky was visible despite them being several feet underground.

"Glass," Lauga informed her without looking up, as they took the trays of food presented to them by another surly-looking novice in brown robes and took their seats at the end of one of the long wooden tables.

Lauga dug messily into her food – a hunk of bread, and some kind of meat and vegetable broth – clearly starving, but Chakka picked at her own with care, despite being famished. She was acutely aware of the men and women standing round the edges of the room, dressed in all white like Telmanes, and – like Telmanes - had strange metal lines embedded in their skin. Their rigid, almost motionless stance as they watched the novices eat did little to convince Chakka they were human, as Telmanes had assured her they were. She had never seen anyone like them on Salinas.

Chakka had the impression that one woman in particular had been looking and not looking at her since she arrived – and it wasn't in a way that was friendly.

Again, despite her bandages, Lauga somehow sensed where she was looking. "That's Elder Eltrage," she said, through a mouthful of bread. "I'm not surprised she's looking at you like that."

"How can _you_ know how she's lookin' at me?"

Lauga shot her a wry half-smile. "I can sense her emotions with the Force, or –" she gestured to her head, " – I can see…colours…that seem like emotions…anyway, there were rumours Eltrage didn't want to send the other Elders to find new novices this year."

"Why's that?"

Lauga shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. She finished off the last of her bread. "No idea, but she definitely wasn't happy when Telmanes sent news he'd found you."

Chakka realized that her hand had slipped into her robe pocket – groping for the knife that wasn't there. The hairs on the back of her neck raised when she realized she'd left it on the bridge, and her knuckles turned white as her grip tightened round her spoon. She felt like some kind of imposter, despite being dressed in the same identical brown robes as everyone else. The others', even Lauga, abruptly felt threatening and imposing. Chakka felt outnumbered in a hall of people contentedly eating their evening meals – seemingly unaware of the threat she perceived they posed her, the suspicion and fear roiling in her gut.

Because was Elder Eltrage unhappy that Telmanes had brought back a new novice or was she unhappy he'd returned with _her_?

* * *

 **A/N** As I said, this story will follow Chakka's conversion to the dark side – this won't just be a story where the OC instantly meets Kylo Ren and falls wildly in love. It is as much a character study as anything else, and I'm really enjoying writing it.

What do you think of the temple? Of Lauga? I'm hoping to avoid most clichés, although it's hard with Telmanes and the whole 'wise-mentor' thing.

Anyway, constructive criticism is always appreciated!

 _Last Of The Lilac Wine_


	3. Chapter 3

**NERVA**

* * *

 **A/N** I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas – and a Happy New Year!

* * *

 **CHAPTER 3**

* * *

[1]

Unlike the majority of novices, Chakka settled comfortably into life at the temple. Indeed, far from finding her new life hard, she found it frustratingly easy. The chores that they rose at dawn to complete, that were not finished until midday – after prayers – may have been gruellingly hard for many, but for Chakka and a few other of the children from peasant holdings, they were a familiar part of life. Lauga seemed to be the only high born child who carried out the seemingly random tasks of mopping, cleaning, cooking and painting uncomplainingly.

In the afternoon, after a small meal at noon, the children were trained by the Elders in the Force.

Chakka, initially excited to learn how to become more powerful in her new-found powers, found this to be the greatest disappointment. Often, they spent the afternoon meditating – merely connecting with and sensing the natural world around them. Connecting to another human life-force was strictly prohibited (it was deemed an invasion of privacy) and anyone caught attempting to mind-read was punished severely. (Lauga had long since assured her that the swirling colours she sensed from other minds was not true mind reading, and did not require her to connect with the other being. She said that all people with the Force could sense another's emotions to a more or less degree. Still, Chakka noticed she never mentioned her 'colours' around Elder Eltrage.)

When Chakka asked one afternoon if they would be using their power on other beings, she was greeted by confusion and even horror. The Children of Shii were keen to stress that their 'gift' was a way of understanding more deeply the world around them and no more.

So by her second year at the temple, when she had turned sixteen – far from feeling powerful or 'special', as she had thought she would feel when Telmanes took her from the orphanage – Chakka merely felt stale and bored. She was tired of listening to the lifeforms of petty insects in the surrounding woods. She was frustrated that no novice could rise above any of the others, with no tests or exams to mark progress. She found herself one clear afternoon in the glade with the other novices feeling an intense hatred for the temple and those around her; all dressed in the same clean, brown robes – difference prohibited, curiosity stifled. Chakka realised for the first time just how much she hated it at the temple – for the first time since she arrived, she actually wanted to leave.

"Now," said Elder Eltrage, from the front of the class, "sense the life of the animals around you. Expand your mind – _feel_ their emotions –"

Chakka cracked her eyes open and glanced around. The other fifteen or so novices were sat around her on the grass, cross-legged, all with their eyes shut – varying expressions of concentration and peace on their face – emotions that Chakka herself did not share.

Looking around to occupy herself, Chakka's eyes fell on Elder Eltrage. Her eyes, too, were shut, and it was a rare moment for her to observe the older woman without being caught. Chakka had always found it strange that, despite possessing the Force and despite having the same, reinforced, strong metallic skin as Telmanes, Eltrage had always looked vaguely sickly. She was old - almost brittle - with a thin, tremulous neck and strangely milky eyes. Every now and then, mid-way through some speech, she would subside into a coughing fit that seemed to wrack her entire body. Chakka often wondered why she didn't just use the Force to cure herself – no one had ever told her whether one could heal themselves or others with the Force or not. In fact, nobody had told Chakka to what extent she could use the Force, and to that end she decided to experiment.

Peeking around her to ascertain the others were too involved in their own concentrations to notice her, Chakka shut her eyes and reached for the familiar power of the Force. She sensed a slow-worm buried in the earth and coaxed it to the surface – once she saw it's fleshy, silvery body wriggle out the ground Chakka checked around herself one more time and then withdrew one of her homemade knives from her pocket, picking up the worm and quickly slicing its body in two in the palm of her hand. Still alive, she watched the two ends of the worm writhe for a minute, fascinated, before she once again connected determinedly to the Force and attempted to heal it.

No matter how hard Chakka tried, however, she found she couldn't. She had no idea how to do _anything_ with the Force, she realized, except bloody _sense_ things – and what use was that?! She almost let out a yell of frustration, but remembering where she was, stifled it quickly.

The summer sun was beating down on her. It was Autumn – there would not be many more days like this. The glade that they used was a kind of hidden paradise – green copses and rushing streams, completely separate and hidden from the rest of Salinas – like most things at the temple. Chakka had never known anywhere like this as a child; all she had known at the orphanage were craggy, dangerous cliffs and muddy fields filled with maggoty cabbages. It still all felt too perfect – too serene.

Abruptly, Chakka sensed something else. She realised this _else_ didn't exist in the natural world around her – wasn't a living entity – and yet…it _felt_ like a living entity. It pulsed, it contorted and rippled; existing just on the edge of the Force. Her mind's eye seemed to glow red like fire as she reached out curiously to grasp this new thing – she found it surprisingly easy to wield, and not slippery as she had expected, but both comfortingly warm and electrifying at the same time. She felt the sensation flood from her mind to physically enter her body – sending every nerve tingling as it stretched to her extremities. Her body was visibly trembling with the power that seeped into her bloodstream like a chemical – insidious – addictive. Chakka found it easy to reach for the worm in her hand – so easy she couldn't believe she hadn't been able to do it before – and knit it's body back together. Whole again.

And as for her, _she_ finally felt so beautifully - wonderfully alive and excited for the first time in –

A scream made her jump - fumble and lose whatever it was she had been grasping. Chakka's eyes flew open and she saw that the novice in front of her was looking at her as if Chakka herself had turned into something as horrifying and revolting as the slow worm in her hand. Her lip curled and she merely sneered at the older boy. Past the boy, however, Elder Eltrage was rising to her feet, her hands on her bony hips as if she was striving to make herself look more physically imposing.

"What did you just do?" she asked, quietly – menacingly – in a tone that indicated she knew perfectly well what Chakka had just done. By this point all the novices were watching her.

Chakka's jutted out in a defensive manner. "I was bored."

Eltrage's eyes seemed to pop from her head. " _Bored_?!" she snapped shrilly, seemingly forgetting to keep her voice soft and even, as she usually did. "You touched the – you – because you were _bored_?" She was almost gasping for breath. Her nostrils flared.

When in a fight, or embarrassed, or worried or scared – whenever she felt in a position of weakness – Chakka had always tended to overcompensate by becoming overly aggressive. This was no exception. Her lip turned in an even more pronounced sneer. "Well afta two years _meditatin'_ got a bit boring, see."

"You have no idea what you have done. This is a place of purity – uncorrupted – untainted – unsullied by the – the – filth you have –" Eltrage was beginning to look positively insane. Her eyes were protruding from her skull – a speck of spit flew from her mouth. Chakka realised that her words were reaching her mentally as well as physically, as if the woman were losing control. She looked at Chakka as if she'd just threatened to kill everyone in the clearing.

"Corruption!" she continued to snarl, long after she had removed Chakka from the glade and taken her back to the temple – a surprisingly strong, bony hand crushing her own forearm in its grip. "Disease!"

[2]

In his room, Telmanes surveyed Chakka calmly as she lounged in one of his chairs, feet propped up upon his desk, unconcerned by his calculated, neutral gaze. Chakka had long since stopped fearing Telmanes – seeing him as an ally more than an enemy.

She leafed through the various scrolls on his desk whilst she waited for him to speak. Though she couldn't read the markings on them that apparently made up words, she liked looking at the pictures.

Eventually Telmanes shrugged his shoulders off the wall. "You realise what you have done has put you in a precarious position at the temple, Chakka."

She made a sound in the back of her throat that sounded like a bark. "Good – I don' want to be here no more."

Telmanes was so silent for a moment, Chakka looked up to make sure he was still there. "I don't think you understand," he said, with slow deliberation. "You wouldn't be allowed to leave."

"I wouldn' –" She echoed – then it hit her like a sledgehammer. "You mean tha' they'd kill me?!"

"It will never come to that." Telmanes said firmly. He swept forwards and sat across the desk from her, casting a pointed look at her boots. She swung them reluctantly down from the table. "….But I think it is past time you are aware of the unspoken rules here, as well as the spoken ones. What you did is not permitted here and greatly feared – no matter how innocent your intentions."

Chakka scowled. "I don' see what's so wrong with it."

"What's _wrong_ with it?" Telmanes echoed, and like Eltrage, he had a slightly disbelieving look on his face – as if she was something neither of them could possibly understand. Chakka's guts twisted, but Telmanes passed a hand across his face and the look was gone. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like – " _doesn't understand_ –"

"Yeah, well if someone'd just _explain_ to me what was so _wrong_ about what I did –" she snapped, her temper fraying.

"No. You're right," said Telmanes. "We've been guided by our fear for too long." He steepled his hands together and pointed at her with his two forefingers together. "It is not so much what you _did_ Chakka, but _how_ you did it that scared Eltrage."

She scoffed. "- I _scared_ her –"

"Yes," he cut over her in a tone that told her not to interrupt, "you did. She sensed you using another side of the Force than the one we teach you to reach for. A different side. The darker side."

"The dark side?" asked Chakka, perplexed. It had not felt dark – she remembered the burning, sweet sensation – how _alive_ she'd felt. "How is _tha'_ bad?"

"Because it is addictive, and addiction for that kind of power can corrupt a person's soul. That addiction will drive you to do or say anything – it can completely change the very essence of who you are. It can drive a person to do terrible things – evil things."

His words repeated themselves in her head like a banging drum. She could feel her face flushing with angry humiliation and her fists clenched on her lap.

 _Corruption._

 _Disease._

 _Evil._

Something lodged itself soundly in her stomach – something oily and burning and before she knew it, words were pouring out of her mouth. She was snarling – shouting. "SO WHY ALL THEM SECRETS, HUH? WHY IS IT STILL SUCH A BIG SECRET HOW YOU ELDERS ALL GET YOUR FANCY SKIN? WHY IS THIS TEMPLE HIDDEN IN THE MIDDLE OF FRIGGIN' NOWHERE?! WHY CAN'T WE LEAVE?!"

"-Chakka," he tried to interrupt, but her voice rose inexorably over his – all the questions and frustrations she'd pent up for two years were pouring out of her. "-I'LL TELL YOU WHY – IT'S BECAUSE YOU _AFRAID_. YOU'RE ALL FRIGGIN' _COWARDS_. WE COULD BE STRONGER AND MORE POWERFUL THAN ANYTHING BUT YOU KEEP US HERE MIND-READING FUCKIN' _ANTS_ AND MOPPING THE FLOORS. I'M SICK OF IT! I WANT TO LEAVE! I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE! I HATE IT HERE – **I HATE YOU** –" She stopped as quickly as she'd begun, breathing hard as if she'd been winded. They were both staring at each other, and when Telmanes opened his mouth to reply, she shoved her chair away from the table and fled the room – not wanting to hear his answer.

[3]

In their small, two bed-roomed room that night, Lauga had tried to ask Chakka what had happened that afternoon – there had been rumours, she said – but Chakka merely brushed her off with a grunt. She climbed into bed and pulled the scratchy covers up to her chin, but didn't sleep. Anger still roiled with in her, despite it being hours since she had left Telmanes office. Her whole body was tensed into a coil – as if half expecting Eltrage to burst through the door and attack her at any moment.

She stayed awake long into the night, her mind burning. She could hear Lauga in the bed next to hers breathing peacefully, and Chakka almost envied the other girl's ability to sleep with an untroubled mind. To occupy herself, Chakka focused on expanding and reducing the Force, pushing it out from her as far as it would go so that she could dimly sense things very far away – until her grasp would snap like elastic and she would lose her concentration. It was in doing this that, in the late hours of the night, Chakka sensed something that was not a human, or an insect – or even the Force, or the dark side of the Force – but something else entirely.

And it was hurtling from the sky.

She sat bolt upright in her bed, her heart thudding in her chest painfully. It couldn't be - ? Reaching over she hastily shook Lauga awake. "Whatsmatter?" her friend yawned.

"I think anotha meteorite just fell."

Lauga was fully awake now. "What?"

"I sensed it – not far from here."

"How far?"

Chakka hesitated. "Past the walls."

She expected Lauga to roll over – to tell her it was impossible to leave the temple, and more importantly – forbidden. But instead her friend surprised her. "Let's go," she said, rolling out of bed and grabbing her cloak from a peg on the wall, wrapping it around her.

"But we can't get through the gates - they always got guards on them."

Lauga shook her head, flashing her a brilliant white smile through the darkness. "I know another way – come on!"

Chakka shook her head sceptically but crept after her into the darkened tunnel, pulling her hood up over her red hair. "If you say-so."

"I say-so," Lauga mimicked her peasant accent not unkindly – she led her to the bathing room – "look," she said, using one of the torches on the wall to illuminate a darkened hole in the wall from which a stream poured into one of the pools. She herself was now looking a bit unsure as well. "It's smaller than I thought it would be."

"But it leads up to the surface?"

Lauga nodded.

Chakka took the torch from her. The hole had to be only slightly wider than herself and looked damp and dark – any other person would have backed down, but Chakka did not.

 _You 'fraid Chakka_?

She shrugged out of her robe quickly and handed it to Lauga. "Hide 'em," she said, "they'll only get caught in my way."

"Are you joking?" said Lauga, taking off her own robe quickly so that both girls were only stood in their baggy white night dresses and bare feet. "I'm coming with you."

Chakka wriggled into the hole first. The water was warm and the stones slippery beneath her hands and knees – her nightgown was instantly soaked through. She realised that the gap would be too small for her to light her way – not that Lauga would need one anyway.

"Use the Force," Lauga whispered behind her, "it's what I do." And so the two girls crawled through the small tunnel in silence. For Chakka it was a bizarre experience. Though her eyes were open, it was pitch black and she could see nothing – all she could hear was their own scuffling movement and breathing – all she could feel was that wet rock beneath her hands and feet.

The small passage did not expand, as she expected it to, nor did it climb – instead it seemed to cut a relatively straight path for about a mile before Chakka saw a slightly lighter spot of darkness in front of her that was clearly the night.

At the end, she stopped abruptly. "I thought you said this went to the surface," she said to Lauga, her voice strained.

The tunnel had come out next to the dam – in the cliff face. The drop below her was short but almost vertical.

"For all intents and purposes," huffed Lauga from behind her – sounding slightly breathless from the effort of getting through the tunnel, "we avoided the guards didn't we?"

Chakka didn't respond, still staring at the drop in front of her. All her muscles seemed to have seized up in fear. Her teeth was chattering as the cool night our caressed her wet, damp skin.

"C'mon," urged Lauga. "It's not so hard to climb down. Just think – this'll be the first time you'll have been past that wall in two years!"

It was that notion of freedom more than Lauga's assertion that it would be easy that provoked Chakka into slipping her feet onto the closest ledge. The whole way her entire body felt like jelly, and it took much cajoling from Lauga to get her the whole way down – when Chakka's toes touched the solid, grassy forest floor she breathed a sigh of relief.

"So," said Lauga, "where did the –"

Chakka grabbed her and put a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. Coming from the track to the temple above them was the rapid, urgent sound of voices and galloping hooves. The two girls looked up to see several Elders in their glowing white robes speed down the track on Hy-mules.

Chakka's first wild thought was that they had discovered her and Lauga missing, but then she realised that the group weren't moving like that of a search party, but rather with purpose and direction.

"They're goin' for the meteorite," she hissed, realisation dawning on her. She grabbed Lauga's hand tightly, not having time to direct her through the forest. "This way!" Lauga stumbled after her, not as graceful as she usually was in the temple, where she knew each passage by heart.

They tore through bracken – sharp twigs on the forest floor cutting and pricking their feet. Up ahead Chakka could see some kind of smoke cloud billowing into the air – once or twice she thought she could see the white robes of the Elders galloping through the trees to her right. "Run! Run!" she urged Lauga.

As they drew close, Chakka became aware that the air was getting warmer – that mixed in with the smoke were sparks of embers – and that there was the sound of crackling fire in the air. She could see through the trees a ridge or a mound and pulled Lauga down next to her behind it.

"What do you see?" Lauga asked, as Chakka raised herself onto her elbows and wriggled on her stomach to peer over the top of the mound.

"I –" _don't understand_ , she thought.

Below her was a slight crater and a mown down line of fallen trees, but in the crater was no meteorite.

"I –" Chakka tried again.

The thing was a strange shape – twisted and crumpled into a metal carcass – part of it burning. It had two bits jutting out of it like a bird's wings. Emitting from the front was a flashing red light that periodically bathed her face the colour of blood. The light was like none Chakka had seen before – not cast by the sun, or fire, but made by something else.

"What is it?" asked Lauga, shuffling up on her stomach to lie next to her. "What do you see?"

"It's not a meteorite," said Chakka slowly – stupidly. She couldn't take her eyes away from the thing. "I don't know what it is."

She felt Lauga tense next to her but didn't have the presence of mind to ask why.

Chakka watched, numb with surprise, as someone actually _stumbled out_ of the strange metal thing. Even from her position she could see they were badly hurt – they seemed to be clutching their head, blood pouring down the side of their skull, their orange uniform torn badly.

"Who's that?" Lauga hissed, sensing the new life form. She grabbed Chakka's arm. "What's going on – why is there a wounded person down there?"

Out of the trees, the Elders appeared – six in all. They stopped on the fringe of the clearing, taking in the scene momentarily, before the first three dismounted, approaching the man who continued to stagger round almost drunkenly.

For some reason, Chakka's heart was in her throat – she realised her palms felt sweaty. She recognised one of the men who had stayed on their horse to be Telmanes.

Then, there was a sound in the darkness that Chakka would never forget – a kind of fizzing and crackling – almost like buzzing, compressed air being forced through a very small space. One of the Elders was holding a glowing blue sword.

They stepped forwards. The man in the orange uniform seemed to finally see them and said something, to which the Elder did not reply. Chakka watched the injured man raise his arms as if to defend himself and stumble back – the Elder swung their blue sword swiftly and the man's head was removed from his body.

Lauga had the presence of mind to cover her mouth with her hand to muffle her scream when she felt the man's life force extinguish.

As for Chakka, her eyes flew to Telmanes, but he did not seem surprised or shocked – he continued to sit, indifferently and rigidly on his Hy-mule. Her eyes narrowed. Unlike Lauga, Chakka found it difficult to care overly that a man she had not known had just been killed – her mind was too busy trying to make sense of what she had just seen. Her anger – which had never really left – was bubbling back to the surface.

More secrets. More lies – but this time, hypocrisy. Betrayal.

They had hidden their novices from violence, but were committing horrific acts of violence themselves. Despite herself, Chakka felt her lips quirk into a smirk. They were not so holier-than-thou as they liked to make out.

* * *

 **A/N** I hope you enjoyed this chapter – it's a bit longer than my other two, but I loved writing it. Thank you all, also, for your lovely reviews – I'm glad you're enjoying Chakka's character development. I'm trying to portray it as a bit of a nature/nurture argument. The way I see it, she was born with a bit of evil in her anyway, but it's the situations and events in her life that nurture this evil in her and let it grow.

I hope no-one's growing frustrated with the OC'ness of this fic – I promise she will meet Kylo Ren in a few chapters time.

Please **review** – it's a wonderful motivator to read your lovely comments!

 _Last Of The Lilac Wine_


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